


it's four in the morning (i'm trying to fix myself)

by DoctorFitzy (KittooningMalijah)



Series: Bruises Verse [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Post-Framework Universe (Marvel), mentions of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 13:36:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11358585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittooningMalijah/pseuds/DoctorFitzy
Summary: Sometimes, the truth is a good thing, and it sheds light on the people around him. He was used to that, to the sudden realization that someone he trusted shouldn’t have gotten so close to him at all - he just wasn’t used to it happening with the people he usually turned to for support.





	it's four in the morning (i'm trying to fix myself)

**Author's Note:**

> If you follow me on twitter or tumblr, you know that I'm not at all happy with the way the writers handled a particular scene in 4x15, so this is my attempt to fix it, or at the very least ACKNOWLEDGE IT because we know the show will never do that. This is a story told from Leopold Fitz's point of view, with his thoughts and opinions and viewpoint on events that occurred in canon - this boy might be a bit of an unreliable narrater.

          The sky was bright, even while he walked through puddles to get to his car, and that was still a strange concept to Leo even after two years. t wasn't the nicest place in the world, or anything close to the life he'd left behind, but the rainy city he'd chosen to start over in was finally starting to feel like home, and he wouldn't take back any of the choices he'd made.

          He had a job that didn't put his life at risk on a daily basis, and a space to live in that was all his own, and a few friends, and nightmares, and crushing guilt that made it hard to breathe, and memories from two worlds, and blood on his hands, and a therapist who helped him talk through the harder parts of his week. It wasn't SHIELD, in any sense, but he liked it, on his better days. Even when his head tried to tell hm that it was a mistake, that starting over was useless and wouldn't change the past, it wasn't a bad life that he'd made for himself. If he was being honest with himself, the complete opposite of what he'd grown used to was exactly what he'd needed.

          In the time he'd spent with the organization, Leo had learned a few things. People played favorites, and he wasn't on any of their lists. When it came down to it, it was every man for himself, and anything that happened to those around them was just collateral damage, and he'd had to learn to adapt. That just happened to end in him leaving before the next big disaster happened.

* * *

          It must have been at least the fourth or fifth time they were trying to rebuild after some major attack, and he hadn't slept in two days. He'd been assigned to scour what they could recover from Radcliffe's files, to make sure that there was nothing left of Aida's protocols anywhere, and that took up too much of his time for him to actually take a deep breath, let alone get a full eight hours of sleep at night. The hard drive had too much information about the team for him to justify even a nap - and that was his own doing, he supposed. He was the one who'd gotten close to the other Scotsman, who had given him access to files and information for the sake of an illegal project. It was his own mess, and it was his responsibility to clean it up.

          There was surveillance footage from all over the base that Aida had gotten from hacking into their system, he assumed, and his nights were spent analyzing the video. It was filled with hints of what the androids were capable of, on the off chance that someone looked into the technology again. Considering their luck, it was a very likely scenario, and being prepared for the worst could only help them.

          He didn't have any problem watching most of them. It was like watching a movie - none of it was real, and he just had to watch the scene play out. They all seemed like actors to him, just delivering lines that had been rehearsed until they had the desired effect on the audience. They were all robots that couldn't really be hurt.

          It was when he got to his own tape that he got uncomfortable.

          Going in, he knew it was the same concept. It was just a robot that couldn't actually be harmed the way a human being could. Even with that logic applied, he couldn't deny that the scene playing out in front of him wasn't what he'd been expecting. A physical fight, a shouting match, a dramatic way of proving the difference between the human and the LMD, that was what he expected, and he got all of that, it was the extra little things that made his stomach twist.

          Frozen, his eyes stuck on the screen, Leo tried to make himself finish it. He watched, horrified and sick to his stomach, while his double was forced to pick up a knife, openly protesting the idea. It was painful to watch - there was shouting, and tears, and maybe a hint of begging and then-

          _"If you're the LMD, I'll see your substructure and I'll know. And if not..."_

_"If you're wrong, you're the LMD, and you've just convinced me to slit my wrists!"_

Immediately, he reached over to slam his laptop shut, unable to see the screen through the tears that had formed in his eyes. There was no way he'd be able to finish it, not when he could guess the most probable outcome. He hated it, the thought that Jemma would suggest such a thing in the first place, but he also saw the logic behind it, to an extent. it would give her the evidence she needed - _as long as she was right._

          But she didn't have that guarantee, she didn't have _anything_  more than the fifty-fifty chance, and that thought made his stomach twist all over again. He thought he might throw up, knowing what she was so willing to risk, knowing just how much they'd changed over the years. It was a desperate situation, he knew that, but no situation was desperate enough for that.

          It could have been him. He could have died, and her focus had been on proving a theory no matter what the consequences. Based on what he'd seen, that determined look in her eyes mixed with the fear, there was no doubt in his mind that his scream - _the LMD's scream, not his, it wasn't real_ \- did little to nothing in the quest to change her mind.

          It wasn't really, but it _could have been_ , and then where would they have been? He would have been bleeding, likely unable to patch himself up considering he'd have to immediately defend himself against a very powerful robot. There was a point when trusting someone hit the point of stupidity - he'd hit it with Ward, and Radcliffe, and even some of the people still on his team, to an extent. He'd just been hoping that things with Jemma would never go that far. In the end, maybe it was his own fault, trusting and caring for someone so much that he'd be willing to cut into his own skin to help her prove a theory.

* * *

          There was no way of telling, for sure, whether he was rubbing at his arm through his sleeve because of the memories he'd drudged up or because of how his skin itched from scars that weren't quite completely healed. Even if his life was a bit easier far away from SHIELD, he had too much of a past to ever really be _okay_. His head still had two lives worth of memories to use against him, to fuel the self-hatred he couldn't quite let go of. Sometimes, those thoughts won out over his dwindling sense of self-preservation.

          Just sitting in his car, a new wave of rain leaving trails on his windshield, the only thing Leo _could_  think about was the past. The incident that led to him leaving that organization was still fresh, no matter how long he'd been away. It was too big, and too scary, and too _eye opening_  for him to ever really ignore.

* * *

          Half of his clothes were packed up in a duffle bag only hours after he'd watched the first part of the tape. He knew he was probably overreacting, but there was _too much_ happening all at once. There was information in Radcliffe's system that he hadn't shared with anyone yet, so many security tapes to watch through, the feeling of his stomach refusing to untwist.

          His head wouldn't let him forget any of it.

          The idea of going to bed in that room, in the same bed with the same woman he thought he could trust, it didn't feel right. All he wanted in that moment was to sleep, but he couldn't do it there, no in the room that had once been theirs. Fitz knew he wouldn't get any real rest in that room, not anymore.

          At the sound of the door opening, he zipped his clothes away and looked up. He wasn't at all surprised by Jemma's presence, it was her room, too, but he wasn't prepared to face her. After what he'd seen in the security footage, he didn't think he ever would be.

          They'd known each other for over a decade, had hardly been apart since the day they'd met, and he thought there would be nothing else - no more surprises, no more little quirks. They were _best friends_. He was supposed to know _everything_  about her.

          Within twenty-four hours, he'd learned the look of determination in her eyes when she was trying to make a point in the lab was also used in situations where their lives were at risk; the tongue that was used to declare her love for him was also used to shout at him to hurt himself, the same woman he'd follow to the ends of the earth was willing to give an order that could have killed him. Things between them were supposed to be _good_  once they'd started living together, but instead, everything was just falling apart.

          **(** _maybe it was his own fault. he'd been spending more time at Radcliffe's apartment than at the base. he'd kept secrets from her, about Aida, and now he was keeping another secret based on what he'd found on the hard drive, but no amount of secrets and weekends away could justify what she had screamed at him to do_   **)**

"Fitz, what are you doing?"

          It was a logical question. He was packing his things with no warning, no explanation, no readily available reason. Every part of him wanted to yell and scream and be angry, but the version of him in the Framework had had more than his fair share of anger - the times it had been aimed at him, the times he had used it as a weapon, the times he'd seen it around the Hydra headquarters that almost felt like home. There wasn't any energy left for anger, so he wasn't mad. The only thing he still _could_  feel was utter exhaustion.

          "I'm going to stay in my own bunk for a little while." He didn't even try to give a proper explanation, not when it wouldn't matter. All it would do is start a fight, and that was exactly what he was trying to avoid. The only thing he wanted was a nap, preferably _away_  from any reminders of their relationship. Until he could fully process what he'd seen in the footage, he really didn't want to have anything to do with her, and while he was fully aware of how terrible that would sound if he were to say it aloud, but he needed _a break_. With the footage still fresh in his mind, all he could think about was her voice, her face, those words. It wasn't exactly doing wonders for his nerves.

          But he did owe her _something_. No matter what the circumstances were, he wouldn't just leave without giving her a reason, even if it wasn't quite the whole truth. "I'm going to be in the lab a lot over the next few days; I'm still watching through everything that happened, taking notes. I wouldn't want to wake you up with my weird hours. You've been through enough without missing any more sleep."

          Technically, it was all the truth, but they knew each other too well for that. The look in her eyes told him that she knew there was more, and his heart stopped, just for a moment, when she spoke.

          "Fitz?"

          That tone could only be described as _fear_ , and the only thing that came to his mind was that footage, the scene of her yelling at him, desperate, afraid, _needing_ to be right. It wasn't real, not really, but that didn't stop it from playing back whenever he closed his eyes for longer than a blink.

      _"I'll see your substructure, and I'll know..."_

          The echo of the words in the back of his mind almost made him flinch, his eyes glazing over for a moment before he blinked. Even though he didn't want to leave, the fact that he was so on edge just being in the same room as she was meant that it was something he needed. If his mind was using the situation to attack him with unnecessary thoughts, he needed to get away from anything that might trigger it - and that happened to include her, no matter how much he wished that wasn't true.

          "I just need some space for a little while, that's all. There's a lot going on right now, and I need to be able to focus on work without getting too distracted. I'll move back in, eventually, I'm sure, but right now... I need to focus on getting through the rest of the security footage, and I can't do that if I'm worried about getting back here to you every single night."

          His second explanation was closer to the whole truth, but he didn't dare put the rest of his feelings into words. They were too harsh, and too general, and it would start the very conversation he wanted to avoid. He didn't want to _talk_ about what he'd seen on the tape, he just wanted to forget it had happened. It wasn't real. _It couldn't be real_.

          Fitz lifted his duffle bag onto his shoulder, taking a deep breath and keeping his eyes fixed away from her. Looking at her would only make him break, and he wasn't going to let himself do that until he knew for sure that he was alone. He'd never really be alone in a room that half belonged to the very woman he needed time away from.

          When she spoke up, her words were dripping with concern. "Leo, what are you keeping from me? Something is _clearly_  wrong, and you _know_  you can talk to me about anything." Without thinking, the Scot had taken a few steps back, gripping the strap of his bag that much tighter, and her words only softened. "You do know that, don't you?"

          Taking a deep breath didn't do anything to help his nerves in the slightest, and Fitz knew, immediately, that he wouldn't be able to put the conversation off for long. It was terrifying, just to think about what had happened, and the idea of talking about it would have made his hands shake if they weren't already otherwise occupied. He had to hold on to something solid, something that would remind him of where he was. He was in their room, _safe._ He was _human_ , and the crisis was over, and he had no reason to be afraid of anything. Eventually, the conversation would have to happen, and he'd much rather have it in a safe place, like their room, than wait and have it explode somewhere like the lab. He took another slow breath to gather his courage, still not quite looking her in the eye. Instead, when he finally made himself form the words, he was staring at her shoulder, his voice just barely above a whisper. "Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is you with a gun pointed at me, telling me to cut into my own arm."

          As soon as the words were out, he wanted to take them back, but that option wasn't available to him. It was too late to erase _anything_ that had happened, no matter how harsh it may have been, no matter how much they wanted to ignore it, no matter how much they _needed_ to put any of it behind them. The past was set in stone, and they didn't live in a science-fiction universe where time travel was readily available at the drop of a hat.

          **(** _it occurred to him, just for a moment, that time travel may have been Holden Radcliffe's next big project, and it would have been life changing to work on, but that would never happen, now. any opportunity they had to collaborate again had been taken away before they ever had the chance to appreciate it_   **)**

          What had happened couldn't be changed and, for the first time in a long while, Fitz was making his decision based on _reality_ , not what could have been. Because things _could have been_  perfect. They could have gotten out and moved to Perthshire and lived in a cottage and _avoided_ every conflict that had crossed SHIELD's radar since Hive was destroyed in the atmosphere. That option was gone, too. The perfect life they _could have had_  was out of reach, and he highly doubted it would ever return to them.

          He could see the change in her expression, how it went from confused, to realization, to coldly defensive in a matter of seconds. There was no time for him to cut in, to explain more of his side to her before she started speaking.

          "Obviously, I never would have done that if it was really you. I just had to get proof that I wasn't the LMD-"

          His scoff cut her off, and he shook his head with a tight-lipped smile. It was exactly what he had expected - she hadn't known the truth about who the LMD was, going in, but she took the risk. _It could have been him_ , but he doubted that fact had made her pause. Why should it? If she was right, it was only a robot getting hurt. If she was wrong, _she_  was the LMD and it wouldn't have mattered to her, anyway. But that didn't make it hurt any less. "Right, right, you needed proof. It was just a hypothesis that you needed to test, I get that. But did you ever consider that it could have been a mistake? The LMDs could have gotten into the system and caused a glitch. It could have been a trick to pit us against each other."

          Jemma shook her head at that, taking a step toward him. "But it _wasn't_  a trick, Leo, it was _real_. I could have _died_ if I hadn't done what I did!"

          "And _I_  could have died if you were wrong!"

          The volume of their conversation only increased as it went on, their shouts contrasting with the near whispers he'd started with. It didn't matter so much, listening to what the other was actually saying, not when they just wanted to get their own points across. They were both hurt, desperate, and trying to scream over each other, most of their words getting lost in the noise.

          "If Radcliffe hadn't built that _thing_  in the first place, I wouldn't have been in that situation!"

          He froze at the words, feeling his shoulders tense. Fitz had been right by the other Scot's side when the first LMD had been perfected, adding more of his own input to the project than anything else. The LMDs had been _his_  project, too, and he knew full well that the original program had nothing regarding a situation such as that one - it had never occurred to them that it would need to. A situation like that should have never happened.

          When Fitz was finally able to find his voice, his words were shaky, his nerves triggered by the mention of the man he still didn't fully understand. " _He_  didn't make you do what you did. You knew it could have been me, but you did it anyway. That wasn't his fault. He wasn't anywhere _near_ what was going on. He was _in the Framework_ , with the rest of us. Regardless of how the situation came about, _you_  made those decisions. That was _you_ \- not Radcliffe, not some magic influenced LMD, _you_." Silence hung between them for a long moment, and he adjusted his grip on his duffle bag. Things had gotten out of hand, and he wouldn't let her stop him from doing what he needed to do. "I'm going to stay in my own bunk while I finish watching through everything. After that, maybe... maybe, I can consider moving in here with you again. But... I can't stay with you right now. I can't lay in bed with you when that's what I see when I close my eyes."

* * *

          He never moved back into the room they'd shared. As soon as he'd finished watching through all of the tapes - including his own, all the way to the end, though it took a few days to do so without getting sick - Leo turned in a full report of the LMDs' abilities and packed his things. In the four years that he'd been with the team, he'd been betrayed just as many times, looked death in the eye and craved for it to take him, sent death after good people himself. Too much had changed, _he_  had changed, and SHIELD wasn't his place anymore.

          Once, his place had been Scotland, with his mother, growing up and studying everything he had the slightest interest in to prove _Alistair_  wrong. Then it was a university campus, and the academy, and the lab he'd shared with Jemma at SciTech, and the Bus. SHIELD was a big part of his life, for a long time, and he needed a new start.

          _That_  was why he'd ended up in the Pacific Northwest, in a rainy town with a month-long summer that was usually just as wet as the rest of the year. it was finally familiar - his apartment was his home, the school was his job, the bar was where he spent nights out with friends. It wasn't just an escape, anymore. It was his _life_. There were places in town that held meaning, outside of his routines, and people he cared about who actually cared about him, a whole new priorities list that wasn't anything like the one he had while with SHIELD.

          He pulled into the parking spot at the edge of the lot and turned off the engine. He knew that his usual spot was right next to the alley, the place that held memories that weren't entirely pleasant, but he didn't stop to think about it. Changing his name wasn't a choice the Scot had made to hide from his old life, but that was certainly one of the perks until a mission coincided with the location of his therapist's office.

* * *

          It was paranoia, he supposed, taking the time to park at the far side of the lot and watch for anyone suspicious. Then again, that was half the reason he was seeing a therapist at all. Normally, it wasn't an issue - it really was his paranoia, and it just meant it took him an extra minute or two to get inside - but on that day, he could feel the eyes on him. That was the reason he'd stayed in his car for a minute longer, rooting around in his book bag as an excuse to look around, from the safety of his vehicle.

          When Leo brushed it off and got out, assuming it was safe to do so, he was almost immediately tugged into the alley. Panic set in, then, and he tried to fight back, but he was grossly out of practice. Nothing he did made a difference, and he stopped trying as soon as his back hit the brick wall of the building. He was trying to catch his breath when his eyes focused on the person who had grabbed him, not even trying to hide his confused frown. His luck had held out for over a year, and he had avoided almost every aspect of his old life. Leave it to a therapy session to reunite him with his past. " _Daisy_?"

          The day had started out completely normal. He'd been emotionally prepared for work and then his appointment before he had plans to grab a drink or two with a friend. He _wasn't_  prepared for a mission and potentially risking his life for the people who used to be like family to him.

          "Fitz, _what the hell_?" She sounded upset, and the look in her eyes didn't contradict that. Last he checked, leaving SHIELD and becoming a science teacher wasn't remotely illegal, and her words did very little to alleviate his confusion. "You're an ass, you know that?"

          Too startled to even consider the idea of apologizing for whatever it was that he had done, the Scotsman shook his head with a frown and pushed her hand away. As soon as he was able to properly correct his balance, he took a deep breath and met her gaze. "I'm not going to argue with you, because I'm already late, but, whatever you think I did, can we talk about it later?"

          Her scoff made him stop, unable to make himself move while he frowned at her. "Late to what? Hurting someone else you claim to love? You really must be an ass if you don't realize what you did. You just walked away, after everything we went through together, as a team - as a _family_." The way she shook her head made him afraid to even try to interrupt, at first. "After all of that, you just _abandoned us_. You of all people know exactly how much that hurts."

          "No, now, wait just a minute-"

          "I've talked to Jemma, we _all_ have, and it's not like we don't all know about you after everything that happened. You shouldn't have left, Fitz, but I guess it makes sense with your family." Her words made his heart stop, but Daisy either didn't notice his pale face or didn't care. "You know, if you wanted to be just like him, we could have left you in the Framework."

          He had to gasp for a hurried breath just to manage a whisper, shaking his head. " _Stop_..."

          "Am I wrong? You're leaving behind your family - and for what? For something better? No offense, but based on what I can see here, your life is _not_ any better than it was. You left, and hurt all of us, for _nothing_."

          That was when he snapped. Leo had accepted that people were hurt when he left, and he was doing his best to handle that guilt, but he didn't leave SHIELD for nothing. It wasn't a pointless decision; it was _his_  decision, and he didn't get to make very many of those.

          " _Stop_." His voice was firmer, almost calm, while he stepped forward, seeing no reason to hold back. After all that she'd said, he had every right to fight back, and that meant getting in her face to make his point. "Call me out on walking away, be a giant _hypocrite_ , because you did the exact same thing after everything that happened with Hive, fine, I don't care. What I did, I did for _me_. I couldn't stay with SHIELD anymore, I  _needed_ out, and _that_  is why I left. And, while I"m at it, don't you _ever_  compare me to that man again. All he is to me is a man in another world who _happened_  to raise me there - I will never consider him my father, just like the team will never be considered my family, not anymore." He only stopped long enough to breathe, otherwise not giving her any chance to interrupt before continuing. "I played that card against Grant Ward _one time_ , but it hasn't been true since then. A family doesn't give up on people - they don't push someone off into the corner and let them pretend to be helpful because of a traumatic brain injury, they don't brush it off and focus on their own problems when someone admits to them that they've been hallucinating, they don't give up on finding answers when someone goes missing, they don't ignore someone _wanting to die_ , they don't justify petty acts of revenge after risking lives to get it done. Those are _all_  things that my **'** _family_ **'** at SHIELD has done over the years; do you still think I'm not justified in leaving? It had been _years_ since any of you had treated me like an actual human being. Why do you think I spent so much time away from the base at Radcliffe's apartment? His _AI system_ treated me better than any of you did, at that point. She certainly protected me better. And, for the record, my life here is a thousand times better than it used to be. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm still running late."

          He turned so that he could leave the alley, fully intending to go around to the front of the building and to his appointment, but the sound of her voice stopped him in his tracks. "SHIELD made mistakes, but it's been _over a year_. You got your space, you gave us the silent treatment, you were dramatic and changed our name - you've done the things that I did. Come _back_ , Fitz, and things can go back to normal. There's no reason to stay away any longer, and especially not somewhere like this place. Whatever you're late for, it can be canceled or rescheduled, and we can get on with our lives."

          Without hesitation, Leo turned back around to face her again while rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. The movement revealed older scars on his wrists, some completely healed and barely visible, as well as newer ones that were wrapped and covered in fresh bandages from that morning, though there was evidence of blood flow that had seeped through the layers. She seemed to be speechless, and he took advantage of that fact while he could.

          "I've been seeing a therapist a few times a month since I moved out here. He knows about SHIELD, and my other life in the Framework, and Alistair, and he knows exactly why I changed my name. Today's appointment was scheduled at the last minute, because of what I did this morning. If I don't show up, I'm declared a danger to myself or others and I lose my job. Now, I'll let you get back to saving the people who actually want your help, and I'll go to my appointment, and, hopefully, our paths don't cross again anytime soon."

* * *

          Daisy's surprise appearance was the only time, in two years, that he'd ever been late to an appointment, and Leo was rather proud of himself for that accomplishment. It meant that he was capable of taking care of himself, to some extent, and he could keep the safe, stable job he'd grown to enjoy. Even if he still had days where he took his time getting out of bed or lingered in the kitchen for a minute after buttering his toast, he was _alive_. The world had thrown so much at him, and he made it out with his heart still beating, his sanity still mostly intact with healing scars. Through betrayals, and aliens, and other planets, and robots, he had survived them all, and that was a grand victory considering how many people hadn't.

          That day didn't mark the last time he ever took a blade to his own skill, but he had still made progress. In a way, being able to unload like that, to someone besides his therapist and the one friend in his new life who would actually begin to understand, to someone he was actually upset with, it had some him some good. For months, after that, he didn't feel so angry, like he was actually able to let go of the person he'd become in that other life. For the first time since he'd left the Framework, he'd actually started to believe that he really could distance himself from whatever legacy that that reality's version of Alistair had made him into.

          He had succeeded in starting his life over, with a job he loved, and friends he actually got to have fun with, even if it was technically SHIELD that had brought him one of his only strong friendships.

* * *

          It wasn't home, yet.

          Leo had been in the area for a few months and had gotten a job at the local junior high school, but he wasn't really settled in. That was part of the reason he stayed in the classroom for so long at the end of each day, he supposed. Even if none of his students came in to ask for help, he could still get a few things done before going to his apartment for the night. It was his favorite part of his routine.

          Nothing about the day had been even remotely out of the ordinary. Arguably, it was the most normal Tuesday he'd had since he'd left Scotland. Classes had been easy to teach, lunch included a sandwich and a few questions about the day's homework, his time after school was quiet. It was an _easy_ day.

          The pile of assignments he had left to grade was rapidly dwindling despite having started at nearly a foot tall, and he was on his third paper cup of water while he finished with yet another activity packet and dropped it into his _graded_ pile. That was when his classroom door opened. It wasn't abnormal for a student to come in and ask for help after school was out for the day, but it was far less likely to happen when the last students had left the campus hours before. Besides, the man who had entered the room was _not_  a junior high student looking for some biology tutoring or a quiet place to work on a paper.

          "Can I help you?" Leo sat up straight at his desk, not pulling his gaze away from the unfamiliar figure in the doorway. He didn't seem threatening, but the years spent at SHIELD taught the Scot that he could never be too careful. Anyone could be a threat, even if he knew them personally, even if they were on his team, even if they were supposed to protect him, and this man didn't even have any of that going for him.

          Something about the stranger's eyes seemed almost familiar, but he couldn't quite place it, instead trying to analyze every other detail he could see. There was an envelope in his hand, but the letters in blue ink were impossible to make out from that angle. He almost thought he could squint to read it until a voice interrupted his thought process.

          "You're Fitz, right?"

          Immediately, he felt his shoulder tense. No one used that name anymore. The only person who even knew the details of his past was his therapist and the man in front of him was _not_  his therapist. He was too young, first of all, and his short beard was a much darker color than _gray_ , and the leather jacket on his shoulders was worn and faded. Most of the people he spent his time with wore nicer clothes, and they considered polos casual wear. It was almost strange to see someone not in a clean button down - who wasn't a student, at least. And leather clad strangers weren't supposed to know his name.

          "I don't really use that name anymore. Sorry, who are you?"

          The stranger stepped forward, shaking his head with a smile that seemed almost sheepish. It was clear, from the set of his shoulders, that he was nervous about whatever he'd approached the former agent for, but that didn't make Leo feel any safer. If anything, the other man's nerves only made him more on edge - there were too many unknown variables, and everything he knew about protecting himself said that was a horrible situation. So, when he got a vague answer, it really didn't help with the tension in his shoulders.

          "My brother might have, kind of, threatened your life a handful of times?"

          With a scoff, he shook his head at the words. He'd reached the point in his life where a sentence like that was actually _funny_  to him, and that was something he'd be keeping to himself. He had enough to talk about at his regular sessions, already. "This is going to sound a bit weird, but I need you to be a little more specific. You obviously know about SHIELD if you know my name, so I'm sure you understand that my life has been threatened _much_ more than a handful of times. It leaves a very long list of possibilities when it comes to who you are."

          The situation was a complete mess, of course, but the fact that they could both laugh about it a little made relaxing that much easier. If he was going to attack or try to hurt him, he would have done it already. He wouldn't have waited until conversation had started - and then his paranoia kicked in, and the Scot was reminded that waiting would actually be better. if he was comfortable, he'd let his guard down, and that would be the perfect time to strike because he wouldn't be ready for it and it would be the best time to make a move.

          Sometimes, he really hated what his time with SHIELD had done to him.

          Whether it was just his paranoia or not, something about the man _did_  seem familiar. It could have been the shade of brown around the edges of his eyes, or the slightly crooked smile, or how his hair almost flopped down in front of his eyes when he shook his head.

          "Right, sorry, you're probably pretty confused." The man cleared his throat a bit awkwardly while he stepped forward, positioning himself in front of the desk. "I'm Thomas. I don't know how much Grant told any of you about me before he, you know, stabbed you all in the back."

          _That_ was a name he recognized. Grant was _Ward_ , a man he had foolishly let himself grow attached to, who had nearly killed them all more than once, who had been their teammate before he was their enemy, who had helped them from time to time, who had tried to apologize, who had been killed right in front of his eyes. Now, his family was doing a better job at tracking people down than SHIELD was, and that was enough to make the Scot tense all over again.

          Getting to his feet, Leo took a slow breath and didn't even try to hide his frown. Too much of his past was coming back, and if he wasn't careful, he'd lose everything he'd gotten on his own, the life he wanted to build for himself. He was finally _free_  from all the danger, and it was already trying to pull him back in before he could even _enjoy_  the peace that came from packing up and moving to the other side of the country. "I'm going to be very honest with you, Thomas - if you tell me you don't mean me any harm, I'll believe you, but I don't plan on taking part in any more of SHIELD's problems, and that includes anything involving your brother. My life will be spent far away from anything else that organization ever does." He started to get everything gathered together, sorting what still needed to be graded into a folder before tucking it away into his bag with a frown. Whatever new drama was going on, he wanted no part of it.

          "Wait, no." Thomas stepped to the side, effectively cutting him off from making his way to the door. "I'm not here to hurt you, you said you'd believe that. I'm here because of Grant, not because of SHIELD. Look, I got this package in the mail, at my new place, after he died. It was obviously important enough that people tracked me down to get it to me, so I opened it. It was just a few of his things - this jacket is the only thing I actually kept. There was an envelope, at the bottom, made out to me. All of the letters inside were for different people." He shook his head, holding the thin, white envelope up to prove that he wasn't lying. The words were clear, in legible, blue ink - _LEOPOLD FITZ_. "I'm only here because I finally tracked you down to give you yours, and all I'm doing is dropping it off. I'll let SHIELD be the ones to drag you into fights no one needs to be a part of."

          The letter was dropped onto the desk without another word, and Leo stared at it in confusion. He'd been there, had watched Grant Ward take his last breaths, had been there for hours beforehand, and there hadn't been any indication that any plans were put in place, especially none that elaborate. Ward wasn't the type for a gesture like that, not based on what he knew about him - which, admittedly, wasn't much. He may have had a flair for the dramatic, but certainly not so much as to do something like _this_.

          By the time he could make himself look up from the letter still on the desk, Leo was alone in his classroom again. Exhaling a huff of breath, he grabbed the envelope to stuff it into his bag with the rest of his things. Whether it was a trick or a genuine message from a dead man, he didn't care. He never intended to open it or read the words written on the page, not when the part of his life it was meant to remind him of was buried in the past.

* * *

          It wasn't unusual for him to be the last to arrive at the bar. Between staying late at work and his regular appointments, It was almost routine for him to roll into the parking lot almost an hour late. All of his friends understood that and it was nice, but it was strange. He didn't like arriving when everyone else was already practically out the door, so he canceled plans completely, nine times out of ten, or came up with some excuse to just go straight to his apartment after a session. The only exception was the nights he met up with Thomas at their usual bar. They never stayed for more than two or three drinks, and that was just fine with him. It was a strange friendship, to say the least, but strange and different was how he usually described his life to anyone who asked about it, and one of the most important friendships to him shouldn't be any different.

          Leo slid into the barstool and relaxed with some of his weight against the bar while he ordered his usual beer. He was never alone for more than a few minutes, even if his leather-clad friend was in the middle of a conversation with a pretty woman. By the time the bottle was set in front of him, he was being pat on the back and all but hugged while he let himself start to grin. Their Thursday night get-togethers were the best part of his week, he'd never deny that, and he was fully aware that his friend shared that opinion.

          "Alright, Fitzy, it's time to ask my favorite question of the week - do you need a wingman? The ladies love a man with some smarts, and you have the bonus of teaching _kids_. They would be all over you if you'd let them." He reached over to take the Scot's bottle of alcohol, stealing a drink before speaking again. "Or I could get you a good man. I'm thinking you need someone tall, maybe a little mysterious, but not dangerous. I know how you are. Come on, when's the last time you went on a date?"

          Rolling his eyes, he reached out to take his beer back. It was routine, but that didn't mean he would ever grow tired of it, not when the conversation was actually helpful during the weeks when he was questioning everything all over again. "I don't date, remember? My other relationships didn't end well, so I decided I'm never trying for love again. If you want to go around flirting, don't let me stop you, Mr. Man-In-Uniform. I'll just watch from afar, like usual." Leo lifted his bottle before taking a drink, staying comfortably settled on his chosen barstool

          That was how it usually went on their nights out together. There was the usual amount of banter, at least three attempts to set him up with some other patrons, a good deal of teasing. It was all practically scripted, after how long they'd been doing it. So, when Thomas strayed from that script, it was almost startling.

          "I read my letter again, this week. I'm older than him, now, and that seems... really _wrong._ I'm supposed to be the kid brother, and now I'm the only one left."

          It wasn't abnormal for them to reread the letters left for them by a dead man. One or both would be reread on a weekly basis, despite Leo's initial declaration to never open the letter at all. He only did it as an assignment from his therapist - he couldn't let go of the past if he didn't face it, or something like that, not that he'd really let go of anything, especially nothing that the letter brought back up. There were too many _maybes_ and _what ifs_  and _could have beens_  tied up in all of those words. To hear that Thomas had read through his own pages again wasn't a surprise in the slightest. The fact that they were _discussing it_  was. There was an unspoken rule between them to not share the details of the contents of their personal letters - they were aware of how often they were mentioned on the pages for each other, but the context wasn't something that needed to be shared.

          "I knew things were shitty all around, but I stayed away. I mean, I _know_  it wouldn't have changed anything, but I still feel bad." The American reached over to steal the bottle again, taking another drink before continuing his thoughts. "But I reread what he wrote, right? And nothing would have changed, we just would have gotten even more messed up, in the process of it all. Because you should read the way he talks about you, Fitzy, that's what always makes me feel better."

          With a frown, Leo quickly shook his head and ignored the continued use of the nickname too rooted in his past for him to ever be fully comfortable with the use of it. "How long were you here before I rolled in, Tommy? I think you've had enough alcohol for the night. Let's just go back to my apartment for a while, yeah? We can watch a movie or something."

          The groan he got in response made him sigh. It wasn't a drunk groan, it was a _not drunk enough_  groan, the kind that came from someone who was right on the edge of being something more than tipsy. He had plenty of first-hand experience with those groans, and almost the same level of experience when it came to his friends. "Let me finish, Fitzy. I couldn't be there because I had my own life and by own issues to deal with, but that's okay. He found someone else. You were his me when I couldn't be me."

          The Scotsman let out a sigh at the words and let himself sink into the cushion of the stool while he frowned. He'd made some of the connections, himself, over the years, had found reasons as to why Grant Ward happened to take a liking to him, of all people, but people called him a genius for a reason. It didn't take much more than his time in the Framework for him to realize the truth - they weren't like brothers, not the way he used to believe, it was different than that. They had always been similar, to some extent, but it wasn't so clear until he'd lived a whole other life, too.

          "That's where you're wrong, Tommy." With a small shake of his head, he took the bottle of alcohol back and held it in both hands, cradling it. No matter what anyone's first impression was, he knew the truth. "He may have seen me as your equal, but in the end, I turned into him."

* * *

_Fitz -_

_I know this is probably weird to read, after everything. You know I'm dead, by the time you read this, which is weird for both of us. If you've outlived me, which you have, if you're reading this, that's a good thing. You still hate me, I'm sure, but that doesn't mean anything if I'm dead._

_I'm sorry. That's the basis of this letter._

_Everyone makes mistakes, but I made some pretty big ones. A lot of big ones. I did things I shouldn't have and it's obviously too late for me to do anything about it now._

_You probably won't take it, but I'm going to leave you some advice, and a story. It's one you know, so you won't miss much if you just burn this entire letter right now. I wouldn't blame you if you did._

_Piece of advice number one: get out. I don't care what side you're on in this stupid war that SHIELD and Hydra insist on perpetuating, get out of it. You'll be much safer if you're far away from it all. It didn't work out for me, but you still have a chance at a normal life. Take it before it gets taken away from you. Take as many people with you as you can. You all deserve the chance to be safe and happy. More than I ever did._

_Piece of advice number two: don't change. You're everything I've ever dreamed of being, Leopold Fitz, so don't change a single thing about yourself. Keep believing the best in people, especially when they don't deserve it, and keep coming up with new ways to keep people safe. Everything about you is so GOOD and the world would be a terrible place if you ever lost any of that._

_Piece of advice number three: if you can't get out of SHIELD or Hydra or wherever you are by the time you read this, remember that you're a good field agent. You were the one who saved our lives on that mission in South Ossetia with your quick thinking, and if you really set your mind to it, you could be even better at it. I believe that. But the lab would certainly be safer if you want that option. It's not my choice to make. It's your choice and I almost wish I could have stuck around to watch you make it._

_Even if you still hate me and don't care what I have to say, just know that there's one more person who wanted the best for you, Mishka._

_Now, the story. I was within the team with the mission of finding out as much as I could about Coulson and his mysterious resurrection and I did that. My mission was to gain everyone's trust and find vulnerabilities and turn around and betray you all because we weren't on the same side. And I did that. I completed my mission. But there was something I didn't account for, and that was a genius who was too observant for his own good. You were the only one who saw the truth - you were right, Fitz, I cared, but it didn't affect my loyalties. I still made the wrong choice, despite the family that I was almost a part of, and I'm sorry. For all of it._

__I'm _arranging to have this letter sent to my brother, in the event of my death, and if you're reading this, it means he accepted the responsibility and managed to track you down to whatever base or safe house or Scottish castle you're living in now. He probably told you all about how hard it was to find you, or how terrible I am for making him do all the work instead of just sending it to you directly, but this is important to me. Thomas doesn't trust easily, and that's my fault. If for whatever reason, you've stopped trusting anyone who smiles in your direction, I supposed that's on me, too.__  
_

___I can't do anything to fix that, now, but you can. I understand if you hate me because I hate myself for what I had to do, too, but if you can find it in yourself to do just one thing for me, you'll be an even better person than I already know you to be. Be his friend. Just try to talk to him, lend him an ear if he needs to rant about me - you'll probably understand him better than anyone after what I put you through. He just needs someone exactly like you, and you're the only you there is._ _ _

___Take care of yourself, Mishka, and maybe take care of my favorite brother, while you're at it. Only if you want to._ _ _

___\- G. Ward_ _ _

* * *

  **SIX MONTHS LATER**

          After the summer he'd had, all Leo wanted was an easy school year. Between SHIELD drama, a new therapist, and helping Thomas adjust to the changes in his own life, he didn't have the energy for anything besides a quiet day of classes. He could only hope that the first day after summer break would be easy - it wasn't like there would be any kind of major project, or even a real assignment, just a fun question or two to get everyone excited about the biology unit they'd be starting the next week.

          With his back to the classroom, Leo wrote his name on the board in capital letters. It was _his_  name, the one he chose for himself. It was the only way he could really separate himself from his past, and he needed that, more than he would ever be able to convey to anyone with words. He needed his connection to the truth.

          He could hear mumbled conversations and excited whispers while students filed into the room, and he knew, immediately, that it was time to begin the professional part of his day. These were kids, and they didn't know about Leo Fitz, the man who fought on the same side as Captain America when it came to Hydra revealing itself, who stayed with SHIELD while it rebuilt and fought in the shadows for the safety of the world, who trusted too easily and got himself hurt because of it. They didn't know Leopold, The Doctor, the other him who hurt people on purpose, who took lives simply because he could, who didn't trust anyone, not even the man who raised him.

          The only version of him they knew was _Mr. Radcliffe_ , the science teacher who looked like a student himself, when he shaved, who showed up two years ago with no family and now story, who helped people study without them needing to ask for help. He was a good person and an even better teacher, and that was all they cared about. He knew how to make science and math fun and easy to understand.

          Turning around to face them, he was outwardly relaxed, the blue letters on the board reflecting the name of the man he shared blood with, instead of the man who walked out in the middle of his childhood. It was the only connection to any father he needed. "Good morning, class. By now, you know who I am - my name is Mr. Radcliffe, and I'll be your science instructor for the next few months. If you ever forget my name, don't worry, just think of Harry Potter and you'll do just fine."


End file.
